Respect
by MegK1978
Summary: A month after "The Gift": A new friend and an old enemy arrive in SunnyHell. Second chapter to follow soon.


"Respect" by MK

"Respect" by MK

Summary/Time context: A month after "The Gift", a newcomer and an old enemy arrive to cause and fight trouble. 

Disclaimer: _Buffy_ belongs to Whedon, _Star Trek_ to the late Gene Roddenberry, and _Babylon 5_ to J. Michael Straczynski. Only a few lowly vampires and a major character belong to me.

Distribution: "Death-Marked Love", if Hilary wants it. Anyone else, ask me!

Feedback? YES PLEASE!!!!!!

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The motorcyclist pulled up to the 'Welcome to Sunnydale' sign as the dying sunlight cast everything in a rosy glow. The figures took off the dark helmet, letting shaggy shoulder-length dark hair fall free. The helmet rested on the seat, the figure's blue eyes aware of everything. People had called those eyes ice blue more than once, but they weren't cold. No, they were more of a fiery blue, alight with intelligence.

A light drizzle began to fall to earth. The face turned up into the gentle raindrops, a smile spreading across the lips. "Now _this_ feels more like home." With a small laugh, the helmet was back on, the throttle opening to speed the 'cycle and its rider away.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A month. It had actually been a month since the death of Buffy Summers, the Vampire Slayer. A month since everyone had lost a dear friend, a sister, a daughter. To Xander Harris, it only felt like it had happened the week before. He had once told her that she was his hero, and she was. But one of the down sides of being a hero was that one could _lose_ the life being risked.

He gazed out the window into the starless night, seeing rain splatter ever faster against the glass. _No dry-loving vamps out there tonight,_ he thought. Thoughts like these came automatically to him after five years of patrolling the Hellmouth. He had a pretty good idea of what vampires did and didn't like, especially since he had a vampire as a sometime ally. After a month of patrolling without the petite blonde… 

He felt tears prick at his eyes. He hadn't cried for all this time, and he fought to not start. He was afraid that he wouldn't be able to stop.

A pair of warm arms circled his waist from behind, a head resting on his back. The left hand sported a ring with a tiny gem. "You're thinking morbid thoughts again," a woman's voice observed.

Xander turned in the embrace to see the expressive eyes of his girlfriend, lover, fiancée. He quirked a small smile at her. "Sorry, Anya."

"Vampires or Buffy?" the ex-vengeance demon asked.

"Both this time." He breathed a sigh, burying his face in her blond hair, shortened by a recent trim. "God, Ahn, love you so much."

"Love you too, Xander." Anya had long before decided that she should wait a few months before even thinking of discussing their wedding. Whenever he came out of these melancholy moments, they'd fall asleep in each other's arms and make love the following morning. It surprised her that feeling this wanted, this _needed_, could feel so good and so awful at the same time.

Their moment was interrupted by a knock on the apartment door. Xander groaned as Anya's hands drew tender circles on his back. _Go away go away,_ he chanted silently, hoping the visitor would get the psychic hint.

Whoever it was didn't take it.

Reluctantly, he drew himself away from her and wrenched open the door, ready to tell off a too-persistent salesman. His jaw hung slack as the sight before him.

Dark, shoulder-length hair had been plastered down by the rain, as were the clothes to a lean, moderately strong body. Blue eyes lit with playfulness and recognition. "Would you be willing to take in a drowned rat for the night?" the figure asked, a smile quirking his mouth.

Xander blinked several times before finding his voice again. "Cameron?"

The smile widened a bit. "Good to know being a California native hasn't dulled your memory, Alex." The visitor gestured expectantly with one hand. "Well?"

Xander shook himself out of shock and gestured him inside. Once he was over the threshold, the two embraced each other, laughing out loud. "Cam, I can't believe you're here!"

"Hey, there's any opportunity to see you again, I take it."

Anya cleared her throat to remind them she was still in the room. Cameron's blue eyes locked on her. "Alex, your manners've _seriously_ eroded since I last saw you," he chided. "Introduce me, already!"

Xander, feeling light for the first time in weeks, separated and did so. "Cameron, this is Anya, my fiancée."

Cameron's jaw took its turn in dropping. "_Fiancée_?!" 

Anya proudly held out her engagement ring, which Cameron investigated closely. 

"Anya, this is Cameron Connor," Xander continued, "my cousin."

She smiled. "Somehow I thought he was. Nice to meet you, Cameron."

Cameron took her offered hand and brought it to his mouth to kiss it. "Same here. From what Alex's told me, he's damn lucky to have you."

Xander carefully tugged a lock of Cameron's hair in retaliation. "When did you develop the Marcus Cole look?"

He groaned in response. "_Babylon 5_ reference! You're still into _Star Trek_, too?"

Xander nodded. "And, Cam, I've been 'Xander' for a long time."

Cameron grinned playfully. "Yeah, but to me and my family, you'll always be Alex."

"How _is_ the tribe back east?"

Cameron smiled at the change in subject, but went with it. "Well, Dad is still trying to teach hormone driven teenagers, although I don't know why. Mom's new book was just sent to her publisher. And Amy, Nick, Dan, and Charlotte are all dazzling their teachers. They're all A-students. And I got my BA in liberal arts just recently."

"Congratulations, cuz."

Cameron glared. "I _have_ told you how much I _hate_ being called 'cuz', right?"

Xander nodded, grinning. It felt so good to banter again. He just couldn't do it with Giles and the others, and Spike was a close second; the word games and back-and-forth with Cameron had sharpened his wit and talent with comeback lines.

"So," Cameron went on, "when do I get to meet the rest of the motley crew?"

"Tomorrow soon enough?"

"Perfect. But my question is still unanswered. Will you take in this poor, waterlogged animal for the night?" Cameron batted his eyes melodramatically, which made his cousin laugh.

"Of course."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The next morning, Xander had to go to an early carpentry job, so Cameron walked Anya to the Magic Box, where she was, as she put it, "an important financial officer". 

"So it's where you and Al—I mean, Xander, hang out with your friends?" Since the previous night, Cameron had made a conscious effort to not call his cousin "Alex".

The couple had been surprised that Cameron knew about vampires and demons, so they were very open about their lives in the Scooby Gang. Anya nodded in response to Cameron's question. "Between the magickal ingredients in the shop and Giles' books, we've got almost every demon and master vampire covered."

"Will I get to meet her?"

She gave him a sidelong glance. "'Her' who?"

"Well, Xander told me once about this blond girl he's friends with." He searched his memory for a moment. "Buffy, that's the name. Buffy Summers."

Anya flinched as if she'd been struck a blow, feeling tears building behind her eyes. Her mind flashed back to the fight with Glory, seeing her friend's body on the ground.

Cameron stopped as she stopped, just a block away from the shop, seeing her face crumble in anguish and remembered pain. _Damn, I stepped in it again,_ he thought. "Anya, did I say something wrong?"

Anya took a breath to compose herself. "No, you didn't, Cam." Her eyes met his, still shiny with tears. "You couldn't have known. Buffy"—she swallowed and continued—"died last month."

Pained understanding crossed his face. "Oh God, I'm sorry." He wanted to ask how it had happened, but saw that the loss was too fresh a wound to reopen. Instead, he put an arm around her, wordlessly soothing, and they continued on their way.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Willow Rosenburg knew something was wrong the moment Anya walked in with a strange slightly older guy, his arm around her, her eyes red and puffy with tear streaks on her face. The redheaded witch left her blonde lover at the shop's large table and went to the ex-demon. "Anya, are you okay? Are you hurt? Who is this guy?"

The stranger's eyes lit up in recognition. "Willow?"

Anya dried her eyes. "I'm okay," she said, before going behind the counter to begin keeping track of the till. 

Willow, meanwhile, started at her name coming from his mouth. "Do I know you?"

He reached out a tentative hand and brushed a tendril of hair that had fallen into her eyes. A grin spread across his features. "It _is_ you! God, you've really grown up!" He withdrew the hand. "It's Cameron. Xander's cousin from New York, remember?"

Willow's hand came up next, pushing back the jet-black bangs to look in his eyes. "Cam?" Recognition washed over her features and she returned his grin, pulling him into a hug. "It's been years!"

"An age," Cameron agreed. They separated. "Xander updated me on everyone's lives last night." He glanced at the table where Tara McClay sat. "Is that your girl?"

Willow looked over her shoulder and back again, nodding. "I'll introduce you." She led him to the table where he was presented to the blonde witch.

Tara was a little nervous, as evidenced by her slight stammering, remembering her argument with Willow before Glory had taken her sanity. 

Cameron, however, quickly put her at ease, taking her hand. "Anyone who makes Willow as happy as you have is a friend of mine."

Tara blushed deeply as she smiled at his easy acceptance of her.

He spent the rest of the day in the shop, before he knew what the Scooby Gang did with their nights. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"Whew!" Cameron blew on the dusty remains of the vampire he'd just staked, feeling winded. He turned to his cousin, who had just dusted his own vamp. "No wonder you're still in shape, Xander. This kinda thing burns off the junk you usually eat."

"Hey, in my book, _you're_ the one who's gone Cali," Xander retorted good-naturedly. "Never even _had_ tofu in the apartment before you showed up."

Cameron playfully poked his shoulder. "Do you some good to eat healthy once in a while."

They passed a tree on their way to meet Willow and Anya. Xander stopped a moment to look at the gravestone underneath its protective, low-hanging branches. 

Cameron looked on curiously, moving closer to read the inscription, carved in marble and lit by moonlight. His breath quietly caught in his throat as he read the words. It was the grave of the famous Buffy Summers.

Xander didn't stay long, leaving his cousin standing there, eyes still glued to the stone. "Cam, you coming?"

"In a minute." He glanced back. "Wanna pay my respects first."

Xander nodded and continued on his way.

Cameron smiled once he was out of earshot. "Hello, Buffy. I'm Cameron. I've heard a lot about you." He chuckled dryly. "Okay, I know that sounded lame, but it's true. I'm sorry I never got to know you firsthand. But I want to thank you. I've known Xander and Willow since we were kids, and they've both turned into strong people when I wasn't looking. I have a feeling you contributed strongly to that growth. So, for them and myself, thank you." He offered up a short prayer to whoever was listening to speed the Slayer's spirit to its just reward, then followed Xander out of the cemetery.

He didn't know that sapphire-blue eyes had been watching him, that sharp ears had heard his words. The figure came from his hiding place, his dark-clothed body almost swallowed by the night. The pale skin of his face and hands, the white-blond slightly curled hair, and the yellow rose peeking from a pocket were visible by the moonlight. 

Spike, the only semi-good soulless vampire in Sunnydale, approached the grave, as he had every night since her burial, and laid the rose atop it. "Y' know, the bloke reminded me that I never thanked you. Thank you, Buffy, for treatin' me like a man, in spite of being a monster. That's more than I should've expected, or deserved. Thank you for…" he trailed off, not knowing what else to say, coming dangerously close to tears once again. 

He shuddered slightly, involuntarily. Vampires didn't normally feel cold, but this was different; this was supernatural. Someone had practiced magic. Not recently, and not here, but someone had left a piece of magickal aura behind. 

Something was up in Sunnyhell, and William the Bloody was determined to find out what.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Cameron peeked through the crack in the door. He saw Xander and Anya cuddled together in bed, asleep.

_Perfect._

He stealthily went back to his room, taking out the small pouch that had been hidden in his rucksack. Soon the scents of honeysuckle, jasmine, and ylang-ylang hovered in the air as the incense burned. He closed his eyes, concentrated, trying to find the quiet place inside himself. But other thoughts persisted.

He hated lying, keeping it a secret from them. But his parents, his mother especially, made him promise not to reveal anything until he was sure they could be trusted.

_Well, let's see,_ he thought in notes of sarcasm. _He's my own flesh and blood, he's engaged to a former demon, is friends with two witches, and was friends with a Vampire Slayer. Yeah, I think I can trust _all_ of them._

The decision made, he could truly concentrate again, finding the quiet, drawing from it. His eyes opened and his hands rose. He began to create shapes and pictures in the air, outlined in soft neon-like light, until the room was lit in multiple, living colors.

_Tomorrow,_ Cameron decided. _Tomorrow I'll tell them I've just come into my full power._

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Anya was the first to awaken. Beams of sunlight shined through the Venetian blinds. The smell of food cooking made her nose twitch. Xander's arm tightened around her, hugging her close as he murmured sleepily.

She tapped him lightly. "Xander, I think Cam's awake."

He took a whiff of the air. "And he's cooking."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

He smiled, kissing her neck, and rolled away to stand and put on a robe. "One way to find out. Feeling brave?"

"This early?" Her sense of humor had definitely improved in the last weeks.

They made their way into the kitchen, where Cameron stood at the stove, a band of woven fabric tied around his head. 

He glanced over his shoulder at them and smiled. "Morning. One of my omelets?"

Xander groaned good-naturedly. "Uncle Peter taught you the 'kitchen-sink' omelet, didn't he."

Anya shot them both quizzical looks. "'Kitchen-sink omelet'?"

"Basically, you could put in anything but the kitchen sink. Case in point." Cameron placed a plate before her. "Take a bite, see if you like."

She picked up her fork and popped a bite into her mouth. Her eyes lit up at the different spices he'd put into the eggs. "Mmmm! This is good!"

Cameron grinned, pleased at her reaction. "Xander?"

"Okay, but I'd like to _know_ what's going into it," he replied.

"Start talking."

Xander rattled off a list of ingredients, augmented by Cameron's suggestions. "Actually, Xan," he said seriously as the list petered off, "I need to tell you something."

"Oh no! I _knew_ something was up!" He put his head down on the table, and looked up again with worried eyes. "What is it? Are you dying? Is it cancer?"

Cameron laughed. "No, no! It's not cancer. It's not even life-threatening."

"Oh." Xander sagged in relief. He still occasionally had bad flashbacks of Joyce Summers' death, mere months before her daughter's. "Well, what then?"

"Just watch." Cameron turned to face the ingredients he'd set out. His breathing even, he raised his hands and began moving them as if he were conducting an orchestra. As Xander and Anya looked on, each ingredient cooked and flavored, the omelet folded and deposited on a plate. All of this happened without Cameron touching a thing.

He physically placed the plate before his shocked cousin. "Are you a warlock?" Xander asked when his voice had returned.

"He's a sorcerer," Anya told him, a slight smile on her lips.

Cameron looked at her. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised, considering who, and what, you were." He nodded. "She's right, Xander. I am a sorcerer. I came into my powers completely the day after I graduated. Mom's been teaching me since my latent powers developed. She's doing the same for the younger ones."

Xander swallowed. "I'm related to a sorcerer?" he choked out at last. "Do I have magic in me, too?"

Cameron gave him a gentle smile. "Maybe your own, special kind of magic. But no, not in the way you're thinking. Mom started out a little like Willow, actually. She began with her knowledge of supernatural beings and built up on that foundation. When she went east for college, she met and married Dad. When they found out her powers filtered through me and the kids, Mom began to teach us how to use and control them."

Xander had begun to cut his omelet into bite-size pieces as Cameron spoke. When he'd popped them into his mouth, he hadn't tasted a thing. "I can't believe…" he trailed off. "Actually, I _can_ believe my mom never told me about this."

Cameron shook his head. "That's because she and Uncle Rory _don't_ know. As far as I know, the kids and I are the only east-coast, and magickal, relatives you have."

"Why'd you wait so long to tell us?" Anya asked.

Cameron sighed. "Mom only found out that Sunnydale was a Hellmouth the week before I left. She asked me to wait until I was sure I could tell you, that you hadn't written off vampires and demons as figments of your imagination." He paused to smile again. "We two are very good at keeping secrets. Mom and I didn't tell you about our powers, and you didn't tell us you knew about vampires and demons, let alone fight them."

Xander smiled wryly, beginning to taste his breakfast now that the shock had worn off. "Yeah, sorry, Cam."

Cameron waved a dismissing hand. "Hey, it's okay. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"Stop the apologizing!" Anya demanded. "Is there coffee to go with this?"

Cameron laughed out loud, and held up the coffee pot. "Just brewed."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The rest of the day, Cameron hung out with Tara and Willow, trading information and helping each other improve on their knowledge. Cameron even clued them into a few websites that specialized in the supernatural.

That night, Xander and Cameron were on patrol again. Cameron's brow suddenly furrowed, turning to look behind them.

Xander looked at him. "What is it?"

Cameron shook his head. "Don't know. I've got this feeling we're being followed."

"Vampire?"

"Can't tell. Be back in a minute." Stake in hand, he crept away, keeping as silent as possible. Hearing a minute sound from some nearby bushes, he leapt into them with a shout, tackling the creature hiding there, getting a grunt for his efforts.

He found himself sitting atop a black-clad figure with a shock of white-blond hair, eyes of a darker blue than his own glaring at him. "Bloody hell, get _off_ me!" the figure yelled in a thick cockney accent.

Cameron was feeling insulted at being followed and replied by bouncing on the intruder's midsection. "Why were you following us?" he demanded.

"Just 'cause the Scoobies've got the slayin' down doesn't mean I can't tag along an' watch their backs."

At these words, Cameron felt surprise run through him. This guy was following Xander and the others to make sure they were all right on patrol? He got off the pale stranger in black, the stake pointed away. The new sorcerer felt… something unusual coming from him, but couldn't place it. He knew the stranger was regarding him as cautiously, thoughtfully, as he was.

Their mutual musings were interrupted by a yell. _Xander!_ Cameron tossed the stranger a piercing look. "We'll finish this later." With that, he took off at a sprint, hoping he got to his cousin in time.

Spike, for his part, felt the younger man's power, the energy behind the bright blue eyes. He ran after him. He'd lost Buffy, nearly lost Dawn; no way in hell was he going to lose any one of her friends, his only remaining link to her.

Even if he _didn't_ like Xander much.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"_Xander_!" Cameron saw his cousin pinned to the ground, semi-conscious, and four demon-faced vampires gathered around him; two with chestnut hair, a blonde, and a redhead. "Leave him alone, you bloodsucking bastards!" He charged them head-on, screaming bloody murder.

The two brunettes decided to take him, getting punched and picked viciously for their efforts, one taking wood in the heart and disintegrating.

Spike tackled the blond vamp still hovering around Xander. Seeing Cameron's movements, Spike couldn't tell if he was brave, foolish, or crazy. Or even all three, for that matter.

Xander was beginning to snap out of it, starting to fight off the fourth, red-haired vamp holding him down.

Cameron's second vampire had him in a sleeper hold, tight around the neck and across the throat. He didn't have the breath to do an incantation, his mind fogging so badly he couldn't think clearly. He felt himself go limp, slumping straight into unconsciousness. 

Spike staked his opponent, tackling the vamp that Xander struggled with. Throwing a grateful glance at his vampiric ally, Xander took a look around and with horror he realized what, _who_, was missing.

Cameron.

Just as Spike was about to drive his stake through the redhead's heart, Xander yelled, "No!"

Spike gave him a confused look.

"His friend dragged off Cameron," the human clarified his outburst. He indicated the vampire pinned on the ground. "He can't tell us where if you dust him."

Spike had seen the other human in action, now remembering him from the night before at Buffy's grave. "Good point." With that, he brought the sharpened wood down—into the other vampire's breastbone, cracking it.

The creature screamed in pain, trying to get away without result.

"Where'd your mate take the human, eh?" Spike asked, his voice low and dangerous.

"Not gonna tell you, traitor," he hissed in reply.

"Wrong answer." Spike withdrew the stake driving it into the redhead's chest opposite his heart, making him cry out again. "Try again." He twisted the wood viciously. "_Where_?"

"The—the sewer under—under the old mansion," he gasped out at last.

Xander and Spike exchanged glances, the same thought echoing in their eyes: Angel's mansion. Whoever was master of these minions had a twisted sense of humor.

"Thanks, mate." Spike drove the wood in one last time, the vampire turning to dust beneath him. 

Xander slowly got to his feet. "Well, let's go. We gotta—" He wavered slightly, looking as if about to keel over.

Spike caught his arm to steady him. "Not 'we', Harris, me. You're in no condition to kick arse right now."

Xander's eyes glared hot anger at him. Any more intense, and that glare would have burned Spike to ash where he stood. "I—am not leaving him to get eaten," he ground out.

"You won't be," Spike assured him. "We don't know how many vamps there are. Once you're steady, get the Wiccas. We'll need firepower." He turned, about to run off.

"What are you gonna do?" Xander called, stopping him.

Spike turned back to give a cocky, "I'm-the-Big-Bad" smirk. "Hurt some vamps an' get him out." The smile disappeared under a serious face. "I'll see you."

He sprinted away before Xander could even have a chance to argue. Xander sighed, slowly went off to find a phone to call his best friend and her girlfriend.

His offered every prayer he knew that his cousin be kept safe, alive and with his soul intact.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Cameron felt as if he should be clawing to the light out of the darkness he had been buried in. He moaned as he felt a headache forming, blood pounding against his temples. He blinked, but everything was still dark. He began to move his hands to his head; they wouldn't move. He tried kicking out; his legs wouldn't move either. His mouth attempted to form words, but the gag covering his mouth muffled them.

The light of an oil lamp was slowly turned up, allowing his eyes to adjust by degrees.

He saw that he was tied to a chair, surrounded by a dozen demon-faced vampires of varying sizes and colors. He swallowed quietly, concentrating on keeping his heartbeat slow. He knew vampires, like all animals with heightened senses, could smell fear. He was afraid, yes, but he'd be damned if he let the fear control him. 

One seemingly human woman stepped forward. Her blue eyes danced slightly as she smiled in delight, fingers playing with a lock of blond hair.

"Oh, you brought me a good one, Lucas," she said to a vampire with chestnut hair, who Cameron recognized as the one who'd grabbed him.

_Oh, my powers for a weapon,_ he thought, glancing around. There weren't even any loose bricks for him to levitate in the small room.

The blonde smiled indulgently. "You won't find a weapon even if you could get loose. And you can't do an incantation on everyone." She came closer, flaunting her body (which he had to admit was incredible). "I take off the gag, no chanting. Agreed?"

He briefly considered the choice. They were in too close a space for him to do a really damaging incantation without taking himself with them. He nodded, giving his word.

For now, at least.

She ran the back of a cool, slim finger across his cheek before pulling the gag away.

Cameron spit out the fibers that had made their way into his mouth, being careful not to do so anywhere near her. Vampire she may have been, and an old and powerful one, too, but until she proved otherwise, she was still a lady. 

And Cameron's family had made sure he was a gentleman. 

"Thank you," he said, his mouth slightly dry.

Her smile was playful, her finger tilting his chin up and to the side. She leaned in close to his neck, breathing deep. She made a soft sound of pleasure, as if wallowing in a rare indulgence. "It's been years since I've tasted magickal blood."

Cameron swallowed again, trying not to shudder and still keep his heartbeat steady. "Yeah, well, I'd count on a longer wait," he said, putting as much bravado into his voice as he could. "'Cause, I tell ya, if my cousin finds you, you'll seeing the business end of a stake."

She drew back, looking impossibly amused. "Really?" she mocked. "And who would that be?"

"He was with one of the Slayer's friends," Lucas answered. "We had the boy on the ground and this one"—he pointed at the bound sorcerer—"came at us kinda crazed."

Cameron shrugged, trying not to smile. "What can I say? Adrenaline."

The blonde's eyes hardened, all sign of humanity gone. "Where can I find the Slayer? I owe her."

"Sorry, you're late. Another hell-bitch got to her first."

She started, blinking. "What?"

"Ask around. I'm afraid I wasn't here when it happened, so you won't get many details from me."

She turned to the minions. "Go! I want to know if he's telling the truth." They scurried out as she turned back to him.

"What's your name?"

The question threw her for a moment. "What?"

"My mother always told me to inquire after a lady's name."

Her mouth twitched as if she were going to burst into laughter. "My name is Darla."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The vampires emerged from the mansion, saying that they should check Willy's place to check the human's claims of the Slayer's death. They never saw one of their own emerge from behind a tree as they passed. He'd heard them talk about Willy's and the Slayer. They had to be either newbies or just new in town.

_If they're out, there should only be a few guards._ He grinned, the predator in him coming out. _This should be fun._

He approached quietly, cautiously, finding the access to the underground tunnels. He navigated his way around, stopping at the sight of the brunette vamp that had carried Xander's friend away. He put on the "Big Bad" and strolled up. "Hey, where is everyone?"

Lucas glared at the punk-blond vamp in black before recognition lit his yellow eyes. "You!"

Spike quickly shoved the stake into his heart, dusting him, and slipped it back up his sleeve. "Idiot," he muttered, opening the door Lucas had been guarding.

Cameron had been concentrating on where he was, using his senses rather than his powers. After sending out the minions, Darla had left him alone to make amends with his maker. He heard the door open again, his eyes widening at the figure in the doorway. "I think you're the last person I would've expected to come after me."

Spike quirked a quick smile and stalked up to him. "Yeah, well, we agree on that." With a few hard pulls, the ropes around Cameron's wrists and ankles snapped, falling to the floor. "C'mon, let's get outta here."

"Oh yeah." Cameron followed his rescuer, rubbing his sore wrists. "The sooner I get away from that blonde, the better."

"A blonde, eh?" Spike teased lightly.

"Don't start. Besides, I didn't like the way she talked about the Slayer; as if she had a score to settle with her."

"She have a name?"

"Darla."

Spike stopped in his tracks as the two syllables dropped from Cameron's mouth. He turned to face the young human. "Blond, blue eyes, 'bout yea tall"—he approximated with a hand in the air—"good-lookin' in a slut sorta way?"

Cameron blinked. "Yeah, that's her."

Spike began to curse a blue streak under his non-breath. He should have known; since Drusilla had told him their grandsire that been brought back and "re-vamped", he should have known she'd eventually come back to Sunnydale. She would have come back to either kill the Slayer or dance on her grave.

Spike wouldn't allow the latter to happen. Buffy's resting place was deserving of respect, and no way in hell would he let his grandsire trample on it.

Cameron reached out with a small tendril of power to learn more about his rescuer, starting from when he'd first seen him in the graveyard. He was amazed at the fear, the hate, the respect, the love running through the fibers of his being; he was even more surprised when he realized that Spike was a vampire, soulless and all.

His concentration broke as Spike talked to him. "We gotta find Xander and the Wiccas, warn them."

Cameron nodded in agreement, then stopped, feeling something pass over his magickal nerve endings. Spike heard the source soon afterward, shoving them into a niche, clapping a hand over his mouth. "One word an' we're _both_ dead," he hissed at the bright blue eyes. "Understand?"

Cameron nodded and Spike took his hand back. 

They watched as some of the entourage returned, passing by, hearing them yell in alarm at the empty cell, their mistress shrieking at them. Spike winced as he recognized Darla's voice. He tugged at Cameron's sleeve, wordlessly telling him to follow.

Once they were out of earshot, Spike pushed Cameron forward. "Get outta here.Access door's to your left."

Cameron gave him a funny look. "What about you?"

"I'm your distraction. Get outta here, tell Xander and Willow that Darla's back. They'll know who you mean."

Cameron grabbed the black leather sleeve before he could run off, determination in his eyes. "I'm not leaving without you."

Spike sighed. "Listen, mate. Right now, outta the two of us, I'm the one to survive a vamp attack if they don't stake me. Go."

"But—"

Spike gave him a hard shove. "Go!"

Cameron could only watch as the vampire ran back to be the decoy. _I'll come back for you,_ he silently promised. _I won't leave you to her for long._ He followed the tunnel to the access door.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"Oi, here I am, ya poncey buggers!" Spike yelled as he ran. "Come and get me!" He proceeded to lead the minions on a merry chase that lasted a good thirty minutes. _More than enough time for the kid to get out._

His echoing, misleading tricks soon failed him, five of the crew managing to pin him down and yank him to his feet. Master vampire he may have been, he couldn't fight all of them. The distinct sense of déjà vu crept over him as he flashed back momentarily to when Glory's scabby servants had taken him from his crypt.

Now, it wasn't an insane hell-goddess he was being dragged to, but his slightly demented grandsire, who was looking at him in surprise.

"Well! I wondered where you were, Spike." Darla grinned sadistically. "Dru wasn't exactly forthcoming about what had happened between you."

The mention of Drusilla didn't have the sting it once had. Spike shrugged with difficulty, the minions still holding him in place. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Perhaps." She furrowed her brows. "He's my grandchilde," she told the minions, "one of us." 

"Forgive us, mistress," a red-haired vamp, Donovan, replied. "But he's a traitor, hunts down his own kind and other demons." He put a little extra pressure in his grip on Spike's left arm. "He allied himself with the Slayer. The boy was right before; she died last month."

Spike swallowed, willing himself not to cry again, not to let himself want to crumble to dust.

_"I'm counting on you. To protect her."_

_'Til the end of the world, luv._ Dawn was the only thing keeping him unliving; he couldn't keep his promise to Buffy if he died for the last time. He met his grandsire's eyes fiercely.

Darla didn't care how Buffy had died, or who had finally meted out her end. She was, however, surprised at the bleached vampire before her. William the Bloody, slayer of Slayers, was hunting other vampires and not humans? Allying with the Slayer? All she had to do was look in his defiant eyes to know the truth. 

She came forward and touched his face almost tenderly. "Spike, what are you _doing_?"

"I've been neutered," he replied plainly. "Got a nifty bit of tech in my head keepin' me from hurtin' humans." He grinned, letting a little of the Big Bad back in. "What happened with you, Darla? Find out Angel's completely outta your league?"

Darla's face showed no reaction, but her fingers tensed, curling hard into his cheek. "You always were a little too—"

"Impetuous? Petulant?" he interrupted. "Sorry, but I just got better with age."

She raked her nails across his face, raising narrow, red welts. "Put him in the cell. If I can't have my magickal blood, I'll settle for a pound of flesh."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Cameron had been out of the tunnels for a half-hour, running for the last fifteen minutes. He was relieved to see Xander, Willow, and Tara coming closer.

"Cam!" Xander grabbed his cousin in a bear hug. "Thank God you're okay."

"I don't think God had much to with it this time." Cameron pulled back to look at them. "A _vampire_ actually got me out. But he was so different from the rest."

"Bleached hair and black leather?" Willow asked.

Cameron nodded. "He told me to tell you that Darla's back. Does that make sense?"

Xander and Willow exchanged looks. The last time they'd seen a vampire by that name, her ensouled childe had staked her.

"But she's dead!" Xander protested. "As in finally-dusty dead."

"She may have been once, but she's back and she's got him." Bright blue eyes regarded them all meaningfully. "We've got to go back."

"Spike can take care of himself, Cam," Xander replied, trying to act nonchalant. In truth, he was nervous about Spike being in Darla's custody, especially once someone told her about his turncoat status.

Cameron's bright blue eyes began to glow with an inner fire that had nothing to do with magic. "He saved my life, _Alex_," he bit off. "He used himself as a distraction so I could get out. I'm not, I _will not_, let her have him for more than I have to. You're welcome to join me, but I'm going back for him." The sorcerer turned to the witches. "Willow, Tara, I wouldn't mind having you cover my back."

The girls looked at each other a moment. They knew he was serious, and neither was willing to let him go in without backup.

"I'm in," said Tara, seeing her lover's answer echoed in her own eyes. Willow just nodded.

Cameron smiled. "Thanks."

"Ah, damn," Xander put in. "No way can I let you go without me."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Donovan never saw the person who dusted him, nor did he have time to call out a warning.

Cameron retrieved the stake Willow had levitated to ram into the redhead's undead heart. "Great aim."

"Great memory," she returned, taking back the wood. Cameron had led them through the access door and the maze-like tunnels with no mistakes.

"Unless there's more than one cell down here, he should be in the same place I was," Cameron remarked. He turned to lead them again when he stopped, flinging his arms to either side to keep them back. He'd felt the sense of vampires prickle along his nerves. "Up ahead," he hissed. "Two, three, maybe four. They're guarding him."

Xander clutched his stake a little harder, the wood biting into his palm. "What's the plan?"

Cameron glanced over his shoulder, a mischievous glint in his eyes, showing that he and Xander were truly related, by spirit as well as blood. "Ever see _Braveheart_?"

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The two vampires guarding the single cell became startled at the humans running at them, howling like banshees. Cameron and Xander staked them before they could even decide how to react.

The cousins shared a grin of triumph, then burst through the cell door to see Spike suspended by his manacled wrists. The third vampire standing only feet away had a coiled whip in his hand. Seeing the humans enter, he cracked the whip in their direction, the tip coming within an inch of Xander's head. Cameron rushed forward, ducking under the leather, and clamped a hand over the vampire's mouth, the other on his chest. "_Incendere_," he whispered.

The vampire's eyes screamed as fire from the young sorcerer's hands ripped through his undead body until he was saying hello to Satan himself. Xander, Willow, and Tara looked on the vampire's dusty remains before turning their attention to the captive.

Spike was suspended by his manacled wrists, his feet several inches above the stone floor. His duster had been forcibly removed and tossed into a corner. His blond head was bowed to his chest, which had distinct whip marks from his torturer.

Cameron swallowed quickly, forcing calm on himself. "Willow, Tara, watch the door please. Xander, with me."

The two young men approached the vampire while the women watched the hallway. "Spike, can you hear me?" Cameron called softly. "Spike!"

He raised his head at last, showing the canary-yellow bruises marring his face. "Bloody hell. I thought you were gone."

Cameron shrugged. "Hey, I said I wasn't leaving without you." He jerked a thumb at Xander and the girls. "I just brought back up. Xander, get ready to catch him."

Xander gave his cousin a funny look, but moved to be in a good place. 

Cameron closed his eyes, reaching inside himself, his hands raised.

_"Let my hands be the key,_

_to unlock and set him **free**."_

His fingers grasped invisible keys, his hands turning them. With twin clicks, Spike's manacles unlocked, dropping the injured vampire into Xander's waiting arms. He let out a growl of pain. 

"What?" Xnder snapped, mistaking the growl for one of annoyance or hunger.

Spike shot him a real annoyed look. "He broke some bones, Harris," he snarled.

Xander winced in sympathy. "Sorry."

Cameron helped Xander keep Spike on his feet. Xander had told him how Spike had endured torture at the hands of a hellgod, and something told him Spike hadn't had the torture nearly as bad this time. "Tara, Will?"

Tara looked back. "All clear."

"Let's go." With the witches taking point, they wound their way back through the tunnels and access door, ending up right outside the mansion…

And finding themselves outnumbered by the minions, just returned from a hunt!

Darla smiled. "Well, well! Looks like I'll get the blood I want, after all. And more besides." She and her small army looked at the humans hungrily.

Cameron left Spike's side, approaching the army without fear. _Girls, Alex, hit the ground, now!_

Xander blinked at Cameron's voice. He hadn't just heard the words; they had sounded clearly in his mind! "Cam?"

Cameron turned to look at his cousin, his eyes glowing in a fluorescent-white light that drowned out the blue. Xander could only describe them as Vorlon eyes. _Don't argue, cousin, just do it!_ his voice sounded out again.

Xander went for the dirt, dragging Spike with him. Willow and Tara had dropped when Cameron's voice had also rung inside their heads.

The sorcerer faced Darla, a small smile twisting his lips. "Hey, Darla!" he called, spreading his arms wide. "No more walls." He reached inside himself, inside the quiet where he could tap and harness his power. He called out, his voice sonorous and echoing:

_"I call upon Prometheus and Hephaestus_

_And beg them to grant my petition!"_

Darla's eyes widened as she realized that was happening. "Stop him!" she screamed.

The minions surged forward, but too late. Cameron had tapped more than his powers. He'd also tapped his anger.

_"Fire around me, _

_Fire within me, IGNITE!"_

His voice became a constant howl as wave upon wave of supernatural fire poured outward from him, burning the evil standing in its way. Spike, even his prone position, felt heat prickle along his back, silently thanking his stars he was on the sorcerer's good side.

Before long, the fire had faded; ashes of vampires were spread everywhere and no sign of Darla. Cameron's arms dropped to his sides. Tara and Willow looked up first to see him standing there, unmoving except his chest keeping time with his breathing. "Cam?" Willow asked softly.

With a low moan, he sank to his knees in exhaustion, sitting back on his legs.

"Cameron!" The witches darted towards him, Tara arriving first to kneel before him. "Are you okay?"

Cameron raised his head to look at the blonde, the bright blue of his eyes visible again. He gathered the energy to give her a weak smile. "Tired," he murmured, closing his eyes.

Xander and Spike struggled to their feet and came closer. "Um, Will? Could you and Tara get Cam back to my place? I'll take Spike home."

His best friend looked up and smiled. "Sure, you go on. We've got him." She draped Cameron's arm across her shoulders while Tara put herself under his opposite arm. They gently used their telekinetic energy to supplement their strength.

Xander watched for a moment as the two witches tenderly carried his cousin between them. He then turned his attention to the injured vampire. "Okay, let's see if we can do this without causing more damage."

"It'd be a bloody miracle with you, Xander," the bleached one retorted, the small genuine smile on his face taking the sting out the words. 

Xander smiled in return as they made their way to Revello Drive. The two had struck up a very strange sort of friendship after Buffy's death. They still barbed at each other, but somewhere, somehow, it had turned into more banter than genuine insults. 

Neither of them saw a slightly singed Darla limping away, cursing herself for ever conceiving the idea of coming back to Sunnydale. Things had seriously changed here since Angel had staked her so long ago; she had never considered that they had changed that much. She made her way out of the Hellmouth for the last time.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

It took a while between the two men to explain what had transpired to the Watcher and younger sister of the Slayer they had both loved.

Rupert Giles had assumed custody of Dawn Summers until such time as her father could be located. Spike, however, had claimed keeping a promise as justification for moving into the basement. With Dawn nursing Spike on the sofa and Giles making sure Darla had been uninvited from the house, Xander took his leave to return to his apartment.

The dark-haired carpenter arrived in time to see his best friend sitting with his cousin, his fiancée handing him a cup of tea.

Anya looked up to see him. "Xander!" She rushed over and hugged him desperately. "They were just telling me. Are you okay?"

"Ahn, I'm fine," he replied, returning her embrace, hiding a smile at her concern. He turned his attention to the two magic-makers on the couch. "Where's Tara?"

"She went home a little while ago," Willow replied. "She got a headache from constant use of her powers."

"Speaking of power, what happened to you, Cam?" The couple sat nearby as Xander asked the question.

"He was just explaining that," Anya jumped in. "When he uses magic with strong emotions, it can contribute to the power, but drains him physically."

Cameron smiled, lifting his cup in salute. "You've recapped perfectly. And for the record, I got more royally pissed than I should have." The smile dropped slightly as concern crept into his eyes. "And Spike?"

"I left him in Dawn's tender care." Xander gave another small smile. "You should see her when he's around. Almost like a younger version of Buffy." He shook his head slightly. "She really…" He trailed off, suddenly choked up by grief that refused to go away. Everyone else also fell silent.

"Blood of her blood," Cameron whispered, "flesh of her flesh, soul of her soul."

The wisdom from left field summed everyone's emotions perfectly. As long as Dawn was alive, they would always have a piece of Buffy in their lives.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The next night, healed enough to hunt again, Spike knelt at Buffy's grave, and another, white rose in his hand. He allowed himself to cry, probably for the hundredth time since her death; a tear for every regret and lost moment, every mistake he made, the one promise he broke and continued to keep.

But grief never once dulled his honed senses as he heard someone behind him, the feel of magic prickling along his skin again. Before he could stop it, a growl came up from deep in his throat.

"Put the fangs away," Cameron chided. "I thought you might be here."

Spike turned to see the young sorcerer holding a blossom in his hand, smelling like cherries and vanilla. He quickly placed it beside the rose on the ground.

"Not quite as passionate as a rose," he explained, almost by way of an apology, "but from everything I've heard about her, it just seemed appropriate."

"Were you looking for me?" Spike asked, admiring the two flowers side by side.

"Yeah. For one thing, thanks for coming after me last night. And for another, why _did_ you come after me? I was a little surprised once I realized you were a vampire." He shrugged. "I would think you wouldn't've cared."

"Not long ago, I wouldn't've," Spike replied. "But then I did the unthinkable and fell in love with the Slayer. Her fights became mine, her friends and family mine to protect. Dawn and the Scoobies, they—" He felt his voice crack, tears being pushed to the surface again. "They're the only links to her I have left." His hand reached out to brush at the lettering in the marble. He cleared his throat and tried to change the subject. "You and Xander tight, then? Don't know anyone who'd throw himself into the fray like you did."

Cameron smiled. "Yeah, but we're not as tight as most families."

Spike looked at him again at last, his dark-blue eyes widening in surprise.

Cameron grinned at the reaction, nodded. "We're cousins. Our mothers are sisters. And my name is Cameron, Cam to my friends." He held out his hand.

Spike looked at the hand, in Cameron's bright blues, and back again. They clasped hands, warm around cold, undead around living.

"I don't know many guys who'd pay their respects to a lady they'd never even met," Spike said. "That's the main reason I went after you."

Cameron continued to grin. "Well, you may have noticed that I'm _not_ 'many guys'."

The vampire just smirked, letting the statement go.


End file.
